


Nanosuit Failure

by SpectralGuacamole



Category: Mai-HiME, Mai-Otome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:56:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectralGuacamole/pseuds/SpectralGuacamole
Summary: This will make no sense if you haven't seen My Otome Sifr.





	Nanosuit Failure

Elliot Chandler disengaged her Meister Robe's unique cloaking feature when she reached her destination. Windbloom's imperial heiress, Sifr Fran, was being held hostage by the Schwarz cult, and Elliot's abilities had made her the ideal choice for an advance scout in the rescue effort. Her solitary journey had led her through a highly-guarded Schwarz complex and to a solid steel door in a long hallway of similar structures. The information her team had collected indicated Sifr was being held in the room just in front of her, and she pressed her ear to the door to gauge where the prisoner may be situated within. When she heard nothing, she figured Sifr must have been sleeping. She shouted through the obstacle as she jumped a few feet backwards.

"Sifr, watch out! I'm coming in!"

After winding up with short dash, she attacked the door with a monumental kick. The hinges instantly buckled under her strength, and the entire structure came crashing down with ease. When she cautiously stepped through this new opening, what she found in the room surprised her.

The prison cell lacked any trace of the person Elliot had been looking for. It was a plain white room, with only a neatly-made bed in one corner and some basic furniture set about. In what should have been Sifr's place stood a stoic, pink-haired young woman who appeared to be around Elliot's age. She was wearing a white and red bodysuit that closely resembled the style of her onlooker's more stealthy black and gray Robe. The invading Otome spoke in a baffled voice.

"Where is she?"

Just then, a pair of footsteps approached her from behind. She glanced over her shoulder to see two grinning young men in dark suits blocking her escape. They were a rather handsome pair, the sort Elliot may have been interested in if she had met them under different circumstances. However, these two were obviously Schwarz conspirators, and she had little compassion for such foul people. When she looked forward again, the mysterious woman finally spoke in monotone.

"I see you've received our misinformation. You've been led into a trap."

Elliot grit her teeth through her Robe's black faceplate as she raised her right hand in the air. In it appeared a peculiar weapon: an oversized boomerang that matched the color of its wielder's combat attire. She threw it across the room with expert precision, but her rival caught the device mid-flight, studied it with one hand, and took it into both arms before carelessly snapping it in two. The anger grew in Elliot's eyes as the silver insets on her Robe began glowing with a brilliant yellow light and she levitated a few inches off the floor. She then propelled herself forward, determined to clock her opponent with a flying punch.

Had Elliot known she was up against a practically invincible gynoid known only as "M-9," perhaps she would have chosen the other attack route available to her. However, she had now locked herself in a fight with an ancient god-machine, and the flaws in her strategy that day would prove to be fatal.

The blonde-haired maiden's attack missed, and M-9 countered with a swift knee to the abdomen. Elliot doubled backwards, clutching her gut and feeling as if the cone of a rocket had just slammed into it. After regaining her footing, she rebounded into the fight with melee attack after melee attack. Each one was answered with what seemed like an increasingly powerful blow, and she never managed to leave a scratch on her elegant opponent. Finally, her advances stopped when she weakly toppled to her knees. She spoke to her stern-faced enemy, now having to resort to pleas.

"Why are you people doing this? Let Sifr go!"

M-9 raised her left hand in front of her eyes. She glanced back and forth between Elliot's collapsed form and her own forearm for some time, contemplating something. Eventually, she shook her head, lowered her arm back to her side, and spoke in the same humorless character as before.

"You should consider yourself lucky, Galactic Aquamarine. If I had been one of my less merciful predecessors, you probably wouldn't even be alive."

This response perplexed Elliot. All she could discern was the girl knew her call sign, which was taken from the name of the ornament on her left ear that worked in conjunction with the nanomachines in her bloodstream to grant her her powers. The GEM, as it was called, was a tiny silver earring encrusted with a single deep blue jewel. Despite its fashionable appearance, it was a rather sophisticated device, and it was currently quietly beeping in Elliot's ear to alert her her Robe's defenses were nearly worn down. She mumbled toward M-9 under her painful breath.

"Damn... you..."

M-9 paid no heed to Elliot's insult, and simply leveled the intruder with a final effortless spinning kick. Elliot now lay on her side, half-curled in a fetal position as she softly groaned. She was conscious, but incapacitated. M-9's sensors closely studied her in silence before the artificial girl turned toward her two male colleagues.

"Threat neutralized. You have approximately 10 minutes before her nanomachines will restore her ability to fight."

Elliot may or may not have heard this assessment when she sat up on her hip, clutched her temple, and tried to shake the fogginess out of her head. However, she did at least partly notice the sound of zippers abruptly being pulled down. Her blurred eyes gazed toward the source of the noise to see the male on her left was now speaking.

"Sounds like we better get moving, then."

M-9's voice flowed from the opposite side of the room again.

"Should I have her prepped for the operation?"

The remaining Schwarz underling spoke next, apparently answering her disheartening question. The sound of fabric being shuffled about soon followed.

"We'd appreciate that. You're probably the only one strong enough to get any of that Robe off of her."

M-9 nodded in obedience before walking toward Elliot's side and lowering herself to the ground. Elliot tried to push herself away out of defensive instinct, but found she only had the strength to move inches from her place. Despite anticipating another harsh attack from her captor, M-9 only reached forward, unclasped her faceplate from the connection points on her cheeks, and put the piece of armor to the side. Next, she rolled Elliot back to her side and did away with most of her Robe's flowing black cape in a single pull. Last, but certainly not least, she directed Elliot to lie on her back. She carefully located a seam on the crotch of her enemy's costume before yanking away a handful of the latex-like Robe material. Elliot's virginal flower and a small tuft of blonde fur were left for all to see.

The humiliated Otome shrieked and squeezed her thighs together before M-9 was fully finished. A deep blush filled her face as her eyes grew watery, and she spoke to her mechanical torturer in horror.

"Wha-... what are you doing?"

The response came quickly and coldly.

"My primary objective is to assist in your decommissioning. Your mask had to be removed to prevent the risk of mission-critical components being damaged. Your cape hinders mobility. I've opened part of your Robe because an additional entry path is necessary for both of my superiors to engage in their mission."

These words, combined with the fact the two males in the room were well on their way to being bare naked, confirmed Elliot's worst fears.

An Otome's greatest weakness was semen. Sperm. And dozens of other names that need not be mentioned for the purposes of this tale. Only this substance could disable the nanomachines coursing through an Otome's body to the point that further nanomachine installations would be futile. This system was put in place to ensure marriage (and, more specifically, the consummation of) would effectively retire an Otome. It was one thing for a collective nation to have one of these young warrioresses serve in place of a standing army. However, the world generally agreed that the idea of men of various political rank having wives who were practically walking nuclear weapons personally serving them was a frightening one. Sadly for our heroine, it didn't take one with a very creative mind to think of a way to abuse this safeguard. It also didn't help that this specific Meister Otome was a Column, one of the five women entrusted with enforcing the entire Otome system.

The gynoid's hands now moved to Elliot's chest. In a single swift but painless action, she tore away the portion of the Meister Robe that concealed its owner's ample mammaries. They bounced briefly after escaping from their form-fitting home.

"And this should aid in the arousal of both parties. Males have a certain affinity to these organs, and my data suggests a female's natural barriers will be weaker if she's more… involved."

Elliot cried out again as she rolled back to her side and quickly covered herself. She frantically shook her head as she tried to cower away.

"Stop it! This isn't right!"

The two young men now approached Elliot in their full glory. M-9 saw this and stepped back to let them have their way, and one of them leaned over his prey while chuckling.

"I think you'll change your mind after a little while."

Despite Elliot fighting with all her remaining strength, they successfully lifted her from the ground (one by her underarms, and the other by her legs) and escorted her to the bed. When they reached their small heaven, they placed her down with exceptional care and took battle stations at the head and foot of the mattress.

The lower of the two found M-9's work had made it so he could part Elliot's legs with little effort. They squirmed about when his fingertips grazed her Robe-clad thighs, but he knew what remedy to use to take her worries away. He made his face level with her flower petals, breathed in some of her aroma, and finally leaned forward to give her a kiss. His tongue had only lapped against her three or four times before she abruptly arched her back and let out an impulsive scream, involuntarily letting her nectar flow into his lips. This was the first of many orgasms she would suffer that day.

To make matters worse, Elliot quickly found herself the victim of a combined assault. The man closest to her eyes had lowered himself to her rising and falling breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth as he toyed with the other in his dry fingertips. After drawing circles with his tongue until the tiny button was fully erect, he switched to the opposite orientation and proceeded to do the same to her remaining side. This, combined with the other quivering pink monster wrecking havoc downtown, caused Elliot to lose herself with each passing minute. Eventually, her body's resistance faded entirely and gave itself up under the masterful touch of the two workers. She closed her eyes and pushed the back of her head into the pillow she had been perfectly propped against. Her blush worsened.

Elliot's uneasy bliss was interrupted when the closer of her two bed partners repositioned himself and loomed over her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw his engorged member was patiently waiting just outside her mouth. He was staring at her intently when he said only two words.

"Open up."

She stubbornly squeezed her lips together as she shook her head. Her captor appeared annoyed, but grinned once he thought of a way that would persuade her to play along. He tapped the head of his shaft against her smooth cheek as he spoke.

"Would you prefer if I handed you back over to M-9?"

She still wouldn't budge, so he decided extreme measures were in order. His eyes narrowed deviously.

"Or maybe I could send her to meet your Weaver friend."

Elliot shyly opened her mouth at the second statement, knowing it was Sifr's life he was threatening. The man slipped his girth in after being granted permission, and his hostess complained about his bitterness in a muffled groan. After sighing in relaxation, he smiled to her.

"Good girl."

He then began using his arms to gently guide her head to and fro.

Down below, the other man's tongue had just finished readying Elliot's canal for docking season. He adjusted himself between her legs so he could lean into a missionary position, and he smirked with confidence as he pressed himself ever so slightly against her dripping folds. He turned to his accomplice just before making the big dive.

"Wanna take bets on who goes first?"

Elliot's first guest was clearly at a disadvantage. He had to stop himself from melting in her mouth before he could respond to the challenge.

"Naw, too risky. She's pretty good at this for a first-timer."

The lower of the two reacted with a slight shrug, not letting the matter worry him very much. His eyes returned to Elliot before he emitted a sultry whisper.

"Here I come, my Otome."

When he entered her with a short, quick stab, her eyes widened with agony and she let out a muffled yelp. The vibration of such traveled through her lips and almost brought her first visitor to his end on the spot, but he barely regained control of himself. A thin stream of blood flowed from her damaged maidenhead.

Although the harsh instance of pain had brought Elliot back to reality, it wasn't enough to keep her out of the haze of lust. Her mumbling complaints turned back into satisfied coos as her new patron began moving in and out of her in a set rhythm. Somehow, perhaps unconsciously, the armored high heels of her Robe intersected behind his back as her toned legs closely hugged his waist. If she had regained the ability to fight off her two pursuers, she was far too trapped in the moment to ever think of using it.

As a chorus of moans and the sound of flesh rhythmically slapping against flesh filled the room, M-9 had taken a new post at bedside. She looked to her side as if to focus on someone standing there. She only gazed at thin air, however, before she proceeded with her next action. She quietly climbed onto the bed, situating herself on her knees before joining the small orgy.

"I've received a command to accelerate the procedure. Executing emergency measures."

The male at the foot of the bed found this to be strange. He had to speak over Elliot's occasional mumbles to reach his friend.

"What's she talking about?"

The one receiving mouth service shook his head with an equally confused expression.

"I have no i-..."

He nearly jumped mid-sentence when a strange feeling interrupted his thoughts. M-9's gloved fingers had carefully reached to his undercarriage and slid around his two dangling cores. The sensation was surprisingly comfortable, given her nature. After delicately caressing the prized possessions for assessment purposes, she announced her intentions quietly into his ear.

"Your antigen banks have become sufficiently overloaded. Allow me to assist you."

Her hand left him, but he didn't have long to ponder her words. A single slender index finger now slipped into his posterior. When the digit found its mark and gave his prostate a tiny precise poke, he let out a powerful groan and promptly exploded in Elliot's mouth. This particular strategy had the added benefit of causing his entire body to freeze in place mid-thrust, forcing her to swallow every drop of his salty payload. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled in discomfort.

When one of the male agents had been milked to her satisfaction, the mechanical girl moved across the mattress and repeated her invasive maneuver on the other. Another harsh grunt could be heard, followed a slow, deep sigh of relief as a flood of hot, creamy deadliness gushed into Elliot's awaiting womb. When the Schwarz team withdrew from their work, they left their captive sprawled across the bed covers, panting to catch her breath.

The following moments were when Elliot became truly helpless. In a short flash of light, her dark Meister Robe disappeared, leaving her powerless and trapped in enemy territory. After her nude, half-asleep form was left on display for brief second, another flash of light engulfed her body and soon left her in her decorative but useless black and white Column uniform. The short dress predictably displayed the same damage as her Robe. The blouse was ripped open to allow her bust to heave freely with each movement she made, and her light gray pantyhose were split at the groin. Her underthings were similarly torn pushed aside to expose her intimate details. Something along the lines of whimpering could be heard in her deep breaths.

No one had specified that the Schwarz duo's venture had to end as soon as Elliot's GEM malfunctioned, so they took advantage of their stamina and never actually ceased in their efforts. The one she had been granting oral therapy soon switched to his colleague's vantage point, lying flat on the bed and slowly guiding her until she mounted him in a cowgirl position. She made little resistance, and she was in far less pain when her defenses were breached for the second time. The experience seemed to be slowly revealing a hidden nymphomania in her, as a keen observer would notice that she had begun making tiny (but willful) motions with her hips each time her impromptu mate thrust upward. Her expression was one of monumental embarrassment and shame, however, and she struggled to keep her dignity.

M-9 stood at bedside again, watching with a blank expression on her face as she focused her scanners on the now-retired Otome before her. As she announced the more scientific facts of the lewd display, the other de-commissioner stood beside her, looking quite eager to rejoin his comrade.

"Mission successful. PSA protein injection has been measured at catastrophic levels. Nanomachine annihilation is at 97% and rising. Subject's body will no longer produce Materialising energy unless it enters Founder mode."

The male associate shook his head, finding her commentary to be more complicated than what it was worth. The last part of her statement caught his attention, however. He had vaguely heard of the term "Founder" before.

"That's when she has kids and can be used like some kind of generator for other Otome, right? Sounds like we'll have to be more careful from now on."

His robotic colleague nodded in silent confirmation before he spoke again.

"Fair enough."

He then reached for a small container of something on a dresser beside the bed.

Elliot appeared to be experiencing both the best and worst day of her life. Despite the soft moans that hid themselves in each breath she took, she hung her head in defeat as she gazed down to her trusted steed. She would have sobbed if she weren't currently numbed by pleasure.

"Why... are you still doing this? I'm already ruined..."

Her benefactor grinned back up at her, speaking between his vertical thrusts.

"Because doing YOU is pretty fun."

He closed his eyes as Elliot's hips made another timid gyration. Her petals continued to wrap around him and offer him a warm, loving home as he thought aloud.

"Too bad you can't use that suit of yours any more. I think you looked cuter in it, but I guess this isn't so bad, either."

The other male member of the assault force made his way back onto the bed on all fours. He shook his head in disagreement as he jokingly spoke from the lower end.

"Naw, I think she's more of a hottie in this get-up. I'm glad I got to be the one to make her like this."

He then leaned forward to whisper into her ear.

"Since there's nothing else you can do, maybe we'll be allowed to keep you around."

The fallen angel's eyes widened with concern before she looked over her shoulder.

"My... my friends will come for me!"

Her kneeling admirer laughed softly at her threat. He then stretched his arms and arched his back, allowing his revived "assistant" to proudly point forward.

"That sounds nice. They're all Otome, so we'll just use the same weapons against them."

Elliot grimaced at this idea, but whatever objection she would have raised was silenced by her lower patron slamming into her again. Her threw her head back and let out a delicious cry as she was struck by yet another small climax.

She tried to slow herself and catch her breath, but the inverted jackhammer below remained relentless.

The less active of Elliot's two sparring partners now reached toward her ear and curiously caressed the heirloom that was still attached to her. After looking at the beautiful GEM for some time, he turned to his less human helper.

"Hey M-9, can you do something about this?"

She answered with a faint nod.

"Of course, master."

M-9 quietly stepped toward the bed before reaching for the Galactic Aquamarine GEM. As she inspected the jewel, she noticed Elliot was wincing in fright, expecting the gynoid to violently tear the GEM from her flesh and anticipating indescribable stinging pain. M-9 seemed more caring than usual when she dispelled her concerns.

"Relax, my lady. Your safety is one of my main priorities."

She carefully unclasped the pin that held the device to its wearer's ear. At the exact moment it was removed, Elliot arched her back again and let out an unbridled moan, as if the final restraints toward her new, much more scandalous ambitions had been released.

M-9 stared at the trinket with her cold eyes for a moment. She then effortlessly crushed it in her palm, reducing it to nothing but a thimbleful of silver and blue dust. What evidence remained of Elliot's once great power was gone, and now no one would be able to follow in her footsteps. Her reaction to this was an expression of sadness, but she was quickly absorbed back into the task at hand.

The man at the foot of the bed was now beginning to take action. He grasped Elliot just above her hips and slowly directed her to lean forward, making her parallel with the human piston on the sheets below. The sound of nylon ripping passed through the room after he pushed her miniskirt up a few inches and reached downward, expanding the tear in her leggings and granting himself easy access to her back door. Elliot knew what he was plotting the moment she felt fingertips massaging some lukewarm substance or another into her puckered rear, and she glanced over her shoulder with renewed worry. Even in her increasingly questionable state of mind, this was not a prospect she looked forward to.

"No! D-don't!"

He gave her a warm smile in response, now prodding her taut entrance with the end of his shaft as he held her lower half in place.

"Hey, take it easy. I won't be too rough. Believe it or not, I really don't want to make a pretty girl cry."

After slowly pushing forward, he and Elliot made nearly the same uncomfortable grunting sound in their respective voices. However, they both managed to adjust to their positions. He paced himself with a gentle and merciful pivoting motion, and she gradually settled into the center of the sandwich and began to enjoy all the attention she was being given.

The two men then began alternating their horizontal thrusts, making a combined effort to conquer their adversary.

* * *

Elliot and one of the Schwarz associates remained in bed. Her uniform was an indecent mess and she smelled quite staunchly of man spunk, but she was too weary to care. M-9 stood idly as her other male colleague finished fastening the belt of his suit. The former Otome rustled against one of her pillows for a while as she came to peace with her actions. Finally, she spoke in a soft, but happy, voice.

"This... isn't so bad. Do you really think I'll be able to stay here?"

The man on his feet replied, straightening his collar.

"I don't see why not. You're not a Column any more, and I'm sure the information you can give us about Garderobe could be useful."

Elliot's eyes turned away in thought for a few seconds. She pondered what would become of the rest of her team without her. When she looked forward again, her expression became hopeful.

"If I help you catch Lena and the others, do you promise not to hurt them?"

Her bed partner let out a low laugh before being the one to take the question.

"Of course. We'll treat them like ladies, just like we did for you."

She spent some more time thinking about things to come. It was then that her liberal sexual preferences started to become evident. A faint blush reappeared in her cheeks when she spoke.

"Can I help you... you know, take care of Lena?"

Another chuckle filled the room, this time from the suited worker.

"Well, we'd have to check with our employer first. But I don't see why he would have any problems with that. He's always looking for new followers."

Elliot stopped to think before posing her next question. Her memory of why she had come to this place had nearly been lost in a sea of lust.

"What will happen to Sifr?"

The same man answered her with a coy smile.

"Depending on what you're willing to give us, we might arrange some sort of hostage negotiation."

Elliot sighed as exhaustion caught up with her. It had been a busy day, after all.

"Umm... can you let me rest a little, though? I'm not sure I can keep going."

Her bed companion was running his fingers through her bobbing blonde hair when he answered.

"Sure, babe. You deserve it."

Elliot closed her eyes in relief. The clothed young man left the room, possibly having other matters to attend to. M-9 followed suit, but only after repairing and locking the cell door with wielding tools she somehow formed out of her arms.

Elliot gently cuddled against the bare frame of the remaining Schwarz minion. Pausing between deep breaths, she questioned him with a curious composure.

"Aren't you leaving with those two?"

He just smiled and shook his head.

"Nope. Smith wants at least one of us to keep an eye on you, so I'm sticking around."

Elliot returned his smile, and a jump in her breath suggested a weak giggle.

"That's good. I'd get lonely if you left me by myself."

She then tilted her head downwards. Her eyelids began falling as her speech became slower and quieter.

"Besides, I feel... safer... this... way..."

Her companion was about to promise he'd try to get more comfortable quarters arranged for her, but then he noticed she had slipped into cheerful slumber at the end of her statement.


End file.
